


A Lesson in Seduction

by windchijmes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Molestation, Possessive Behavior, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:24:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windchijmes/pseuds/windchijmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Warnings : Jealous and possessive Dwalin, graphic smut (rimming, oral, you get it), OMC's unwanted sexual advances towards Fili, some vulgar language.</b> </p><p>Fili is secretly pledged to Dwalin. The problem is, Dwalin is always busy with everything and everyone else, and Fili feels neglected. Then comes Kili and his brilliant <strike>or stupid</strike> idea of making Dwalin jealous. So now Fili finds himself at the tavern, all dressed up, and attracting the attentions of the patrons. From his corner, Dwalin watches his golden lad being openly touched, and he is <i>furious</i>. The next thing, he is marching over and openly staking his claim on Fili to the whole tavern. Then hauling Fili back to a chamber to have wild, possessive sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lesson in Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for aniat's prompt: I just really want some jealous!Dwalin (and maybe just a little bit of fluff, if it's not too much to ask?? But mostly the jealousy thing). 
> 
> There you go! I hope you like it!

_I hardly see you._

_You see me at training._

_That is not the same!_

That was the end of that particular discussion. It didn’t leave Fili in a better mood than he was in before the discussion. Training sessions, he thought to himself, irritation already beginning to gnaw at his insides. By the end of every training session, Fili was bone-weary, with hardly any strength left to even shove his dinner down his throat, not to mention, well, swallowing anything else –

In other words, Fili was deeply, undeniably and wretchedly _frustrated_.

And it certainly did not help at all that his lover was one of the weapons-masters in charge of the training of the younger Dwarves. Well, no doubt Fili was thrilled that they were even in the same arena. He might not ever confess to it but he took certain pleasure in seeing his lover stride across the arena with his bristling beard and colossal figure, drawing admiring glances from everyone within the area, including Fili.

 _Dwalin_. Guard of the King.

Fili’s presence would be acknowledged with a discreet glance from that intense gaze, but nothing more. Fili did not mind at first. He understood the unspoken agreement between them that in the training arena, they would only ever be master and student. Outside the arena, however, Fili was free to express his affection. And that was what truly ate at Fili. Aside from training sessions, his lover barely had time for him anymore. There were always missions, assignments, or accompanying the King on his surveillance of the troops.

Fili had been sensible about their clandestine relationships for two years, and now he was tired of being _good_.

“Are you sure this would work?” Fili asked for the umpteenth time. He knew he was sounding like a skittish maiden, but he’d never attempted anything like this and it was unnerving.

“Of course, it would!” Kili replied with a huff that clearly meant that Fili should never doubt his brilliance. Ever. “It’s impossible to fail, Fili. Besides, you look presentable,” he added a little grudgingly.

Fili snorted under his breath. That was Kili’s way of assuring him that he looked attractive enough. Kili wouldn’t say it out loud, naturally, because the little devil considered _himself_ the handsomest Dwarf in the whole of Ered Luin. Presently, the dark-haired lad was bouncing about in his leather-embossed coat with striking, royal-blue trimmings. It suited him well, Fili had to admit to himself.

Setting his teeth grimly, Fili studied himself in the looking-glass again. His hair had been brushed until it gleamed like spun gold, and there were more braids in it than usual. Two on either side of his head, and another thicker one down the middle. He wore a coat the colour of deep amethyst. It was much thinner than his usual attire, clinging to his form like a sheath, and making Fili feel a little too exposed. Kili claimed it suited him remarkably well, but Fili wasn’t sure if he should trust Kili’s judgment completely.

“I look strange,” Fili muttered as he picked at his sleeves.

“You look ready to seduce the entire tavern!” Kili announced in satisfaction. “Just remember the steps. Here, I’ve written them down,” with that, he shoved something into Fili’s hand.

It was a ratty, sorry-looking piece of parchment written in Kili’s script. The writing was barely legible, given Kili’s penchant for scrawling. Fili read it quickly, rolling his eyes. His younger brother had a flair for the dramatic as well.

Tucking the parchment into his coat, Fili frowned even harder at his reflection. Both he and Kili had features that were too delicate in the eyes of most Dwarves, and worse, their beards were as yet no more than a scruff at their jaws. But Kili was, at least, tall and still growing. Fili seemed destined to be – well – less tall. Sort of _small_ , actually. And the fact was uncomfortably accentuated by this purple coat. Suddenly, he missed his usual heavy fur-trimmed layers.

“Are you absolutely sure it’d work?” he asked for the last time, and claimed a non-existent victory when Kili shot him a withering glance.

“Yes, yes, it would,” Kili sounded like he was announcing something of monumental significance. “I have reliable sources who informed me that Mister Dwalin is at the tavern this very moment with his soldiers. If you follow my instructions, you’d get Mister Dwalin’s undivided attention without fail.”

Fili couldn’t help cringing a little. He was Crown Prince of Ered Luin. Must he resort to such tricks just to get his lover’s eyes on him?

“Are you backing out now?” Kili accused, poking his finger into Fili’s chest.

Fili thought again of Dwalin’s frequent absences and took in a long breath. “Let’s proceed,” he declared.

++++++++++

Warm ale and hearty roast were always welcomed after a long day of drills. Around the table, boisterous bellows and laughter echoed in fine form. They were all of them hardy, rough soldiers who had served the royal clan for decades. Subtlety was not a particular strength of any of them, and soon, the conversation turned to carnal conquests, in every salacious manner imaginable. Some of them were already mated, and these became the wry targets of the others’ teasing. But most of them were yet unpledged, and now they joked and bellowed about the bountiful young lassies and lads ripe for the plucking.

“Not you, Dwalin,” one of them chortled now, slapping the great warrior on the shoulder. “You have a pretty little thing warming your bed every night.”

Dwalin just snorted, chugging down his ale, not replying just yet. His comrade was mostly right. Dwalin did have someone of his own – pretty as pretty went, and little too, but nowhere as submissive as his comrade insinuated. He paused then, and something like regret gnawed at him. He’d not seen his lover for a while now, choosing instead to spend most of his time with his soldiers. It had been a necessary sacrifice. The troops needed the extra drills.

Now the additional training was done, and he could spend as much time as he so wished with his young lad. With that thought firmly in mind, Dwalin downed the last of his food and drink, and stood up.

“Leaving so early?” his comrades said in raucous protest.

He flashed them a meaningful smirk. “Going to bed.”

The others guffawed in response, suggesting lewdly how he could go about bedding his lover. Dwalin heard them, but he simply shrugged and grinned in response. Soldiers were a filthy bunch but they meant no harm with their remarks. That didn’t mean Dwalin would participate in the ribaldry where his lover was concerned. His golden lad belonged to _him_ alone.

Just as Dwalin turned to leave, another voice from their table spoke up, “Ho, would you look at _that_. The young princes. In _here_.”

Halting, Dwalin jerked his head where his comrades were now staring. They were right.

The princes of Ered Luin had just entered the tavern with a whole entourage of peers their own age. The group caught the attention of the other patrons easily enough. They brimmed with youth and vigour, but more than that, there was a hint of innocence that still clung to them. And it was _this_ that drew the lascivious gazes all around them.

Dwalin’s hands unconsciously fisted into the table. Like the others, his attention was also riveted on that gathering of young Dwarves, but it was just one of them that his focus. The one Dwarf hovering at the fringe of the group, standing out like a beacon with his golden hair. He was dressed most unusually, what with the gem-clasped braids in his hair and the coat that did nothing to hide the suppleness of his form. It was an apparent attempt to entice.

And enticed Dwalin was. Even with the colour and noise crashing around him, Dwalin could feel his body heating in response. His lover never failed to have that effect on him.

Crown Prince Fili. Golden and beautiful. The lad had just turned seventy, the perfect age to be courted – and mated. Except of course, Fili had already given himself to Dwalin. Precious few people knew of it; both of them had been careful to conceal their bond.

That was the problem now. Dwalin was not the only one with an interest in the newcomers. Already, other men and women were beginning to gather around the young Dwarves, several of them approaching Fili with intent in their eyes. The lad smiled at them and demurred, but they were persistent. One of them, in particular, leaned right into Fili’s personal space and touched his hair.

Too close – and too _familiar_.

Dwalin’s fingernails began to rend into the wood. He had never set rules for Fili – the boy belonged to him, but he wasn’t an animal to be leashed.

But _no one else_ could touch Fili without his leave.

Now Dwalin stood there stiff as a statue, the entire fading to a blur at the back of his mind.

He watched, and he waited.

++++++++++

“No. This is enough. Thank you,” Fili said to another flagon of ale. Like all Dwarves, he could hold his drink perfectly well, but that night, every brand of ale tasted like dust on his tongue. He did not like the whole – situation. There were too many bodies crowding around them, the tavern minstrels – the bawdiest musicians he had ever seen in his life – were too loud. The patrons were too persistent.

And there were strangers who insisted on intruding on him. One of them was bolder than the rest, a tall, striking Dwarf perhaps a couple of decades older than Fili. He had chestnut hair and an embellished beard of the same rich shade. His attire was even more opulent than Fili’s. He seemed vaguely familiar, though he wasn’t any of Fili’s shield-brothers or training comrades. Fili guessed he was a descendent of the goldsmith clans who had resettled at Ered Luin only in the last two score years or so.

The Dwarf stretched out a hand and grasped one of Fili’s braids. “You’ve grown up fine, Prince Fili,” he said in a low voice, his fingers caressing that golden braid as if he was imagining doing the same to _other_ parts of Fili’s body.

“Have I?” Fili said lightly, pulling away in a smooth move.

The Dwarf just laughed, but he moved in even closer. “Would you dance, my Prince?”

No, Fili did not want to dance. He also did not like being referred to in such a manner by this Dwarf. He didn’t even want to be in this tavern for much longer. His comrades were swirling around in their finery, soaking in the attention lavished upon them. Kili, for one, flitted from one suitor to the next with alarming ease.

Then, Fili recalled the instructions Kili had given him. The first step was to drink to his heart’s content, which hadn’t worked out so well. And the second was to accept an invitation to dance. Kili said it was sure to rouse Dwalin’s jealousy –

Where was Dwalin?

“Fili?” the Dwarf asked. He was still waiting.

He had come to the tavern determined to enjoy himself. But where _was_ Dwalin? “Very well,” Fili acceded reluctantly, setting his apprehension aside. A dance would do no harm. Perhaps it would distract him from his troubles.

Given permission, the Dwarf took hold of Fili’s wrist at once and pulled him into the crowds swinging around in merry circles. Fili felt himself swallowed up by walls of bodies, and his own crushed against his partner’s chest. A thick arm wrapped around Fili’s waist, keeping him in place as they moved along with the dancing tides.

“Have you not thought of marriage?”

The abrupt question caught Fili off-guard. Around him, the rhythm changed and he inhaled sharply as he was dragged even tighter into his partner’s embrace. The smell that assailed Fili’s nose was a strange combination of too-new leather and extravagant wealth. It smelled _wrong_ , and Fili suddenly missed the sharp scent of metal grease and sheer masculinity that he should be surrounded by.

“I have not,” Fili said, a little more sharply than he intended, irked by the whole situation he had managed to get himself into.

“You should. You’re of age and you should be pledged to a worthy Dwarf.” He lowered his face towards Fili, and something dark snaked into his gaze.

Gritting his teeth, Fili reared back, but there was nowhere else to go. He lifted and wedged one arm between them. It offered him just a bare inch of distance between he and this offensive lout. “Unhand me,” Fili replied coldly. He had a dagger tucked into his boot and he could defend himself well enough, but he did not want to create unnecessary chaos.

“You do not mean that,” the Dwarf sneered. His other hand seized Fili’s chin and yanked it up roughly. Hot breath washed over Fili’s face. “Pledge yourself to me, and my clan’s wealth would aid your uncle’s rule greatly.”

Fili tried to wrench his head away but the Dwarf’s grip held fast – and turned painful as those fingers constricted around his chin. He did not fear the Dwarf, and already he could see Kili and their friends pushing their way through the crowds to reach him. But the other man’s touch was loathsome on his skin, and he felt sickened as those greasy lips hovered so near his own.

“Let me go or – ” Fili hissed furiously.

“Or what?” the leer widened on the Dwarf’s face as his hand on Fili’s waist slipped even lower.

 _Or I’ll slice you from chin to navel_ , the words were right on the tip of Fili’s tongue. But they ended in a gasp as a massive arm looped around the Dwarf’s neck and _flung_ him aside. He landed with in a clumsy heap on the ground, face red with fury.

Exclamations and roars ripped around them as the other patrons reacted. Some simply watched in drunken amusement. A group, probably part of the insulted Dwarf’s entourage, began to advance only to be drawn into a shoving melee with Kili and their friends.

Caught in uncharacteristic indecision, Fili froze where he stood. He should be there to help his brother, but his gaze was drawn helplessly to the towering figure now looming over the chaos. The fur-lined vest, thick scars and runic script inked onto his scalp only made him look all the more fearsome.

Fili felt something like trepidation and pure, unadulterated _gladness_ at the sight.

“Dwalin!” Fili blurted in a rush of breath.

++++++++++

Red. Boiling _red_ – that was all Dwalin saw before his eyes as he cut a swathe through the throngs of patrons. Some were simply knocked out of his way; most of them beheld his storming approach and simply edged aside to let him pass. A hush began to fall over the entire tavern. He vaguely noted the groups of young Dwarves pushing and gesturing at each other, and took a single heartbeat to ensure that Kili was safe amongst them. His own soldiers would be watching his back.

Then he continued blazing towards the still-oblivious Dwarves prancing away in the midst of a dance.

All his focus was locked on that one figure right in the centre. Fili, face pale with anger as he strained against those hands pawing all over him.

Reaching them, he caught the bastard Dwarf and tossed him off. He moved without thinking, without even looking, fury searing his every move. Baleful and bristling, Dwalin stared down at the Dwarf now crumpled at his feet. He did not recognise the younger Dwarf, and he did not care. He only knew that this Dwarf had dared lay hands upon Fili, and he would pay for it.

_Dwalin!_

There was a faint cry at the edges of his mind, but Dwalin moved as a man possessed. Bending, Dwalin seized the Dwarf by his collar and lifted him up until he was struggling on the front of his boots.

He leaned down so the Dwarf would see him, _hear_ him. “You touch Fili again and you would answer to me.”

“The great warrior himself,” the Dwarf huffed in contempt. “Rescuing the little prince.”

“He is pledged to _me_ ,” Dwalin snarled, silencing the other Dwarf at once. That was the sacred law of their race. Once a Dwarf was pledged, he would remain with his mate for all his life. He would tolerate no other suitor and no untoward advance towards his partner. He shook the younger man once, hard and brutal. His voice grew deathly soft. “Do you hear me? He’s mine. Touch him again, and you will answer to my axes.”

A pressure laid over Dwalin’s arm, then tugged. “ _Dwalin_ ,” Fili’s voice was as a quiet balm easing over Dwalin’s rage.

The warrior released a long, thunderous breath, and let go of his captive. He watched, unmoved, as the Dwarf stumbled back in gnashing complaint, whining something ludicrous about his clan seeking revenge for this slight. Then Dwalin turned and looked at Fili. The lad was flustered, staring back at Dwalin with something like wonder and uncertainty in his eyes.

Seizing the young Dwarf’s hand, Dwalin drew that smaller form against his own bulk. The whole tavern of Dwarves was watching them now, as they _should_. He kept his arm around Fili, the ownership in his gesture glaringly clear for everyone to see. He would have them understand that he had staked his claim upon Fili, and his axes would heave upon any who dared challenge him.

 _We’re leaving now_ , Dwalin heard himself growl. He felt Fili nod, and they left the tavern, his golden lad tucked under his arm every step of the way.

++++++++++

They did not go far.

Dwalin was still livid and he would not be so easily appeased. Yes, his fury was mostly directed at the Dwarf who had dared molest Fili, but he was also angered by Fili’s own carelessness. The lad had always been level-headed and cautious; he would never tempt danger the way Kili would. So what had gotten into Fili’s mind to go waltzing into a tavern blatantly seducing danger the way he did?

The nearest inn was just a short distance from the tavern, and Dwalin headed into it now. He shot a gruff command to the owner, who wisely asked no questions, but simply pointed down the hallway. But there was curiosity in the inn-keeper’s gaze as he eyed the quiet, flushed golden lad hauled along with Dwalin.

The moment the door slammed shut behind them, Fili exhaled unsteadily as though he had been holding his breath since they left the tavern. Dwalin had a mind to speak to the young Dwarf. He turned to Fili – and a blank white eroded his mind. All rational thought faded swiftly.

The coat and breeches that were too thin and too elaborate enveloped Fili like second skin. It made the lad look even more vulnerable than usual – and dangerously _pretty_. What had begun as merely flames of anger inside Dwalin now churned with other unspeakable emotions. He did not even realise he was doing it, until he had circled Fili in a predatory stalk. The lad tried to follow his movements, his gaze alert like how he had been taught, but he couldn’t hide the quiver in his lips, or his cheeks staining red from Dwalin’s intense scrutiny.

“Dwalin, I – ” Fili tried to say, then faltered as the warrior edged even nearer to him. But he was never one to lose his ground without a fight. “I did not mean to tempt – anyone – just – ”

The fire surged into raging waves across Dwalin’s mind. He saw snaps of images. That lovely golden hair deliberately braided. Fili’s hands beginning to clench and unclench in the way they always did when the lad was nervous and trying not to show it. Dwalin could feel his lust rousing swiftly and ferociously between his legs.

Unwittingly, Fili began to frown, almost in petulance. “Just _you_.”

Dwalin might have laughed, but that painfully earnest confession ripped away the last of the warrior’s control. He moved – _lunged_ – and hauled the boy up in his powerful arms. One wrapped around Fili’s waist, and the other gripped the lad by the back of his head. Then their mouths met, and it was violent.

He swung their bodies, half-carrying, half-tossing Fili onto the cot. Then he was crushing the lad into the sheets, their arms and thighs tangling. Fili thrashed under him, almost out of pure instinct, gasping as his lips were forced apart. His hands clutched at Dwalin’s beard and he whimpered under the onslaught of bruising kisses over his panting mouth.

There was rage in this, perhaps punishment even, for Dwalin was still trapped in his black jealousy. It was an ugly beast. Destructive. But such was how the warrior lived – and loved. He gave himself as completely as he owned. There could be no other way.

Still blistering with possessiveness, Dwalin broke the kiss. But he kept the boy pinioned under him, their lips separated only by a hair’s breadth. He could feel each trembling breath from Fili, and when he looked down, he had to hold himself back with every ounce of willpower. Golden hair dishevelled, mouth red and swollen, the lad blinked up at him. All his cocky brashness and pretences had been stripped away, and now only a tender vulnerability radiated from him.

“Are you still angry with me?” Fili said quietly. There was no fear in his gaze, but there was enough apprehension to suggest that he dreaded Dwalin’s reply. Fili wasn’t used to being punished, unlike how Kili landed in trouble with unerring regularity. 

Dwalin snorted. He could never stay angry with Fili for long, but the lad needn’t know that just yet. “Very,” he growled. Now that the shards of his fury had been blunted, lust began to stir anew in his loins. Beneath his breeches, his manhood _pulsed_. He lowered his head and brushed his lips across Fili’s ear in a deceptively gentle caress. Then he bit sharply, and felt the lad jerk in startlement. “And now I would be appeased.”

Fili quivered, but this time, an answering hardness rose between his thighs. His eyes widened, and the flush deepened on his cheeks. He seemed embarrassed yet aroused by Dwalin’s hunger for him. Raising his legs, he wrapped them around Dwalin’s waist and _lifted_ his hips up to grind their groins together. It was an almost clumsy invitation, but so, _so_ sweet.

Again, he kissed Fili. It was not as brutal as the first, but no less urgent, the lad’s mouth opening readily for him and eager tongue twining around Dwalin’s. He moved down Fili’s neck, lips and teeth biting kisses that would bruise that pale skin for days, not letting up even when the lad squirmed in protest. When he lifted his head, it was to relish the sight of the lad’s neck marred by large, red blotches. He would see the rest of the boy’s body marked by the same.

Taking Fili’s coat in his hands, Dwalin ripped it open, baring the young Dwarf’s chest. His skin was even paler there, and the wiry hairy at his chest proved little protection for his nipples. These Dwalin plundered with his lips, sucking at those nubs one after another so that stood out from Fili’s chest like little pink peaks.

“You brute,” Fili accused with no bite at all, his gaze already heavy with desire. He looked as if he would complain more, but chose instead to turn his face as if he knew it would only provoke more ravishment.

Yet it was too late. His arousal had been fanned into full fire, and Dwalin’s lust would only be slaked by the most thorough devourment of his lover. Now he tore at Fili’s breeches, laces and fabric splitting without resistance. Pale thighs, a half-hard young cock and enticing hints of buttocks revealed themselves to Dwalin’s hungered gaze. Uttering just a single moan, Fili bit his lip and fisted his hands into the sheets as if he was trying so hard not to cover his nakedness. Good. Dwalin would not allow his lad to hide from him. He removed Fili’s boots, grudgingly approving of the dagger tucked away behind a buckle. The lad had been reckless, but not entirely foolish.

Now to uncover that pretty little arse. Taking Fili’s hips, Dwalin flipped the lad over. A groan of pure filth dragged from Dwalin’s throat as he feasted his eyes on those firm, rounded swells. He gripped them in his large hands, kneading them roughly and spreading them open until he could see it – that tiny, twitching pucker in _there_.

“ _Dwalin_ …” Fili sounded breathless. Face half-buried in the sheets, only the lad’s feverishly-bright gaze could be seen.

“You know this pleasure,” Dwalin goaded him, bending his head and pressing his lips to one pert arsecheek. “Tell me what you want, little _wench_.” The fact that Fili was the most _proper_ prince ever to be born in Ered Luin only made the contrast more vulgar, more arousing.

Though his knees moved apart to bare himself even more to Dwalin, Fili bit down on his lip, refusing to voice his need. He had his moments of impetuous obstinacy and this was one of them. No matter. Patience was hardly Dwalin’s virtue, but pleasure was something else.

So he took his kisses _into_ the cleft of the boy’s buttocks, sliding his tongue over and over that tantalising curve, teasing Fili with the promise of darker, more sinful pleasure. But Dwalin would not give the boy what he so obviously wanted, not until he begged for it.

“Dwalin…” the lad groaned out, trying to push himself up onto his knees. But he couldn’t, not with Dwalin holding his hips down. Again, he sought to angle his buttocks back into those fleeting caresses, and again he failed. Then, finally, he grated out, “… _lick me_ …”

That was a good start. Holding the lad’s arse open, Dwalin slid his tongue over that blushing ring just to watch it twitch even more desperately. Below him, Fili gasped as if he was jolted. “Where?” Dwalin urged him.

“Lick my _cunt_ ,” Fili gave a strangled whimper. His head lifted, and he was damp and flushed with sweat. “Taste me. Please.”

He wanted Fili’s surrender, even if took time. And now, given the permission to devour, Dwalin was only all the more ravenous. Snuffling into his lad’s arse, he found his prize and mouthed hungrily at it. The scent of the boy’s arousal was all around him - musky and thick – and Dwalin felt the little hole flutter wildly against his lips. He worked it open with steady, ruthless efficiency, digging his tongue into it until Fili was sobbing and splaying his own legs even wider for that lewd pleasure. Sliding one hand beneath the lad’s hips, he took that neglected arousal and caressed it. It put up little resistance, swelling rapidly into Dwalin’s skilled fondling.

“Dwalin!” the lad moaned, his eyes closed. He seemed delirious with the effort of trying to control himself. “I cannot – I cannot stop – ”

Dwalin knew his desperation. Fili’s body was tender and young still, and the siege of pleasure on both ends was too much for him. Already, his shaft was wet and throbbing in Dwalin’s grip, and he stroked it even faster and harder until the lad screamed. Dwalin felt the cock jump in his hand and globs of sticky white soiled the sheets in spatters.

Reaching down, Dwalin lifted the boneless lad up, holding him back to chest with one arm. Fili turned his face, gaze still bleary from his release. “You made me come,” he said, sounding for a moment like more a brat than a prince.

“So I did,” Dwalin grunted, his free hand cradling the lad’s spent crotch. “I’ll make you come again.”

Interestingly, the lad could still blush, never mind he was begging Dwalin to eat his arsehole a moment ago. “You are unsatisfied, Dwalin,” his words grew a little breathless and in his shy, yet coquettish manner, he rubbed his arse against the thick lump in Dwalin’s breeches.

Dwalin’s breath caught in his throat and his trapped manhood strained against the cloth. The lad didn’t know what he was toying with, that he should never tempt a predator so recklessly. Steadying himself, Dwalin reached for the vial of grease in his coat, but his hand shook as he undid his own breeches and drew his erection out.

Freed from its prison, his cock burgeoned to full hardness, jutting up heavily. The dark, fleshy head of his cock nudged against Fili’s buttocks, smearing wetness, eager to rut. He coated himself with the grease, all the while snarling obscenely into Fili’s ear.

Two of his slickened fingers slithered between Fili’s arse, and wedged into his passage. The lad whined in his throat, his thighs trembling as he was fingered open. It was melting hot and wet inside Fili, and Dwalin savoured the feel of it, plunging his fingers in and out in rough preparation.

That was as much mercy he could afford the boy. The desire to claim Fili in the deepest and most intimate way was all Dwalin felt now. He braced his cockhead against Fili’s entrance, then took the lad’s hips in his hands, before pushing up. It was slow and difficult and a groaning mess as Fili struggled to ease into the penetration. He had to nuzzle the lad quiet, and ply his body with gentle caresses until it relaxed enough for Dwalin’s huge bluntness to pop free into his passage.

The boy cried out; he was still tight enough for the penetration to hurt, and he whimpered throughout as his arsehole gradually swallowed up the rest of that massive length. Fully sheathed inside his lover, Dwalin petted at the lad’s golden braids.

“Do you feel my cock?” he mouthed at Fili’s neck. “So deep inside your cunt.” He shoved upwards just a little to wrench a grasp from the boy. “I’ll make it better, hmm?” With that, he began to grind against Fili’s arse in short thrusts, letting his cock undulate inside the lad. It didn’t take long.

Uttering a sharp, almost shocked groan, Fili’s head arched back, hair scattering over Dwalin’s shoulder. There it was. To be sure, Dwalin stabbed upwards again, right against that secret mark, and the lad began to pant.

“Again, please, Mahal, again…” the young Dwarf pleaded so very beseechingly.

A deep growl of triumph thrummed in Dwalin’s chest. He gathered the boy fully into his arms and onto his thighs. His arms locked around Fili’s torso, keeping him shackled to his chest. Then, he _moved_ , fucking up into Fili’s tightness, each lunge deep and hard as he plowed into the boy. It was silken heat around him, made only the more delicious by Fili’s desperate squirming. The lad could only cling onto Dwalin’s arms, his knees slipping on the sheets, head tossing restlessly. Between his spread thighs, Dwalin’s enormous shaft dragged through his tender hole, inflicting the most torturous pleasure inside him. Fili’s cock, already satiated once, now stiffened yet again.

It spurred Dwalin on, and his pace grew savage. He _pounded_ into Fili, making sure the lad feel every thrust, every brutal slam to make him writhe in ecstasy. Emotions surged in an uneven tide across Dwalin’s consciousness. Possessiveness, desire, gluttony, and the damning realisation that rose above them all – a love for his golden lad that unsettled Dwalin with its sheer intensity.

The warrior closed his eyes, burying his face in warm, golden hair as he rode out his last thrusts. Then he was hurtling over the edge, emptying his load inside Fili. He heard the lad whine from the sensation of being flooded with hot wetness, and Dwalin kept his spewing shaft plugged inside Fili for as long as he could, determined to fill the lad up with his seed.

But it couldn’t last, and Dwalin slipped out finally in a wet, heated slide. The lad was still whimpering, and Dwalin only understood why when his eyes opened and he stared down at the lad’s loins.

Fili turned towards him, his expression wretched. “I’m hard again,” he moaned.

So he was. Dwalin raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Lifting the lad off his thighs, he sat Fili down on the sheets and held his legs wide apart. After all, he had to inspect the problem at hand, didn’t he?

Look at _that_. Deep below, suspicious dampness was seeping from Fili’s abused arsehole. And above, his young cock had once again sprung upright, and it seemed to grow even stiffer before Dwalin’s eyes. It was a lewd sight, and one that Dwalin enjoyed with unholy delight.

“Must you look at me like this?” the lad demanded. He looked very ravaged, very fucked, and very vexed by his unfulfilled second arousal. He also looked mortified by Dwalin’s close attention to his straining erection.

Dwalin couldn’t help smirking. He lowered his bulk and propped the lad’s legs over his shoulders, pinning them there with his hands. Then he dipped his head and let his mouth hover over that pretty cock begging for him. “I’m going to make you come in my mouth,” he growled and sucked Fili’s cock into his mouth.

He didn’t tease, but he tormented, slowly taking the lad’s arousal deeper and deeper down his throat, his tongue lashing around that erect flesh. He felt Fili’s hands scrabbling at his head, and his heels digging into his back. Without any leverage, Fili could neither hurry him, nor hasten his own pleasure. But he could moan, and he did so ceaselessly as Dwalin nursed at his cock. Shoulders heaving, his throat constricted greedily to milk the lad’s flesh. He _had_ missed the taste of his boy. His eyes flicked up, meeting Fili’s delirious gaze, then he was working his head even deeper between the lad’s thighs, until his nose nudged into dark-golden hairs. Fili was _wild_ beneath him, hands yanking on his beard in urgency, sobs beginning to resound in his throat. Now Dwalin pulled off to suckle at his dripping cockhead, and he was just in time, for the lad was almost arching off the sheets as he came. His release was weaker this second climax, but Dwalin eagerly swallowed each spurt, his tongue lapping over that tender slit to drain the last of it as Fili’s tremors began to calm.

Dwalin kept the lad in his mouth, savouring the taste of hot young cockflesh. Fili’s legs slipped from his shoulders, and his limbs sprawled limply over the sheets. The young Dwarf was a _wreck_ ; his eyes could hardly focus as he tried to rise to his elbows. Little mewls bubbled from his throat however, and Dwalin understood that his young lover was oversensitised. Carefully, he let the soft flesh slip from his mouth, liking how it glistened with his saliva.

Moving over the cot, Dwalin peeled off the remaining attire from his body, and laid down flat over the only clean part of the sheets. The rest were dirtied, a carnal parallel to the pungent smells of sex and fluids in the air. He opened his arms as Fili crawled up tiredly into his embrace. Now with a comforting, warm mass against his chest, Dwalin rested a hand on Fili’s face, idly brushing his thumb over one cheek.

“You were jealous,” Fili said suddenly. A statement, not a question. He was grinning too; Dwalin could feel the curve of the lad’s lips against his fingers.

“I was,” Dwalin admitted, feeling no shame in it. He had never been a placid man and he never would be one.

“Did you mean it? What you said?”

“About making you come again?”

“Not that!”

The warrior chuckled, unable to help himself. He felt a fist pound _ungently_ over his chest, and that made him pause enough to glance downwards. The golden Dwarf was glaring up at him, looking like a young beast with a thorn in its paw.

“Were you truthful?” Fili said again, the annoyance on his face giving way to something deeper, more anxious, less certain. “When you said I was yours?” He did not look away, but he was betrayed by his youth. There was no hiding the genuine trepidation in his demeanour. He _would_ have Dwalin’s honest answer, but he feared it just the same.

Dwalin sat up, lifting Fili up with the movement. He took the lad’s head and brought their foreheads together. “I would never lie to you, Fili. I spoke the truth. You are _mine_. The world may fall into ruin and rot, but you belong with me.”

The lad flashed a sun-bright smile. “The Guard of the King. So terribly saccharine.”

Dwalin snorted and smacked the errant youth on his arse for that insult. He was going to follow it up with an admonishment, when he saw it. A piece of crumpled parchment lying near his fingers. It looked innocuous enough, yet it seemed too deliberate an object to be left behind by the previous tenant. Leaning down, Dwalin grabbed it and read it.

_Step 1. Drink ale. A lot. A barrel, if you can._

_Step 2. Dance with someone. Preferably Dwarf. An Elf would do too. Not a Man – would not survive Dwalin._

Dwalin’s brows shot up to his bald head. What in the name of Mahal’s leaping ponies was this about? He did not need to look at Step 3. When he turned to interrogate Fili, the lad was already sinking back into his chest and tucking his face into the crook of Dwalin’s neck.

“What is this?” Dwalin bellowed, waving that blasted instruction parchment.

“A lesson,” Fili murmured, his words slurred.

“Whatever for?”

The lad sighed and wrapped his arm around Dwalin’s shoulder. “In seduction.” He paused, then laughed as he curled himself into Dwalin. “And how _marvellously_ it worked.” 

 

 

_finis_

* * *

 


End file.
